Colours: A Destiel Trilogy
by lexiconophilia
Summary: Castiel, unbeknownst to his boyfriend Dean, is nearly eight weeks pregnant. He's an angel, so the feelings associated with childbearing go beyond morning sickness. Every time he reaches out to the child within him, he sees a new colour. When he feels ill, the Nephilim sends forth a healing yellow or pastel pink. When he's upset, it's typically oceanic blue or a deep violet. Either
1. Colours

Castiel lays in bed covered with Dean's duvet along with his own. He never thought Kansas winters could get this cold. Usually, according to the moose, they don't, and he's just being sensitive. He typically nods and turns away to roll his eyes at the hulking mass of salty hunter, but recently he had realized that his senses are indeed heightened because of a...tiny adjustment to his bodily anatomy.

Sam and Dean don't know, and Cas intends to keep it that way until he can be sure it's safe to tell them. He feels guilty, especially when he's around Dean. He's his boyfriend, he deserves to know—but, not until he's strong enough to fly again at least.

The two men are out on a routine vampire hunt, so Cas has some time to waste. He shifts his position in Dean's bed and flicks on the television, slowly but surely making his way through the vast electronic universe to the Netflix.

He searches through Dean's endless watch list of shows until he finds one that remotely interests him. Castiel pushes the button to select the episode Dean was last watching and prepares to see a comforting moment involving unicorns and faeries.

Nope. He's wrong.

Cas shields his eyes as a long dagger is thrusted through a man's throat and emerges again at the other side. He yelps in disgust and empathetic pain as he hits the pause button. As he's trying to regain his breath, he feels a presence.

Well, more like sees a presence.

A cool shade of the colour orange fills his senses and soothes his rapidly beating heart. Though he should be perturbed after seeing a wave of sunset orange fill the room, he's not. In fact, he melts into the comfort and snuggles his torso and abdomen into the duvet.

"So, I take it 'Game of Thrones' wasn't a good choice, huh?" He murmurs to the grace surrounding him.

He picks up the remote again, but promptly puts it down. If Dean's watch list has any more shows like that massacre onscreen, he doesn't want to see it. Instead, he boosts himself off the mattress and past the ajar door.

As Cas walks through the hallway past shotguns on display and Men of Letters sigils etched into walls, he shudders. He just wants his boyfriend to get home. The bunker is surprisingly lonely without the pair of big, strong, flannel-clad arms spooning him.

He hears a loud sound from the room adjacent and jumps. As his arm snakes around his abdomen in an instinctive action of panic, he feels a surge of strength and comfort waft through the bunker. Soon enough, a vibrant mist of lavender surrounds him, and he is able to continue to the foyer.

Though it sounds silly, Castiel loves when he gets scared, or hurt, or ill. He doesn't mind it so long as the colours keep appearing. It's like his own personal rainbow protecting him, like the Father he never had. He dwells on this until he realizes that his hand is still resting across his stomach, which only happens because of the loud growls emitting from within.

His steps quicken. "Hang on, little one. You're obviously half-Dean Winchester—I'm only consuming food and dealing with the taste of molecules for you, because I love you."

Castiel feels the child's grace surge through his veins and beat to the rhythm of his heart, and immediately feels safe again. His eyes pulse golden yellow and suddenly, all he can see is a silhouette of a baby with enormous wings towering above all things.

Though this thought brings him comfort, he still fears for his unborn baby's life. Nephilim are illegal and punishable by death in Heaven, and Earth has no capacity for the powerful hybrid breed. Half human, they will possess empathy, while the angelic portion will attempt to combat the mortal one.

No, he thinks—positive things only.

The baby is half-Dean, which means pie, and lots of it. The poor thing will have an insatiable appetite, but will be the most loving and loyal person on earth. They're also half-Cas, so that means rebellion and a lack of pop culture knowledge. The perfect combination.

He is pulled from his daydreams by another rumble from his stomach. Of course he's hungry. He reaches for the refrigerator door and instinctively grabs a beer, before putting it back on its shelf. He opts for the first thing to come to mind: cherries and peanut butter.

Knowing Sam and his paleo obsession, he will vomit upon seeing his housemate eating such an absurd combination. Cas, however, doesn't care; he's eating for two and now, he can't afford to skip meals.

He grabs a spoon from the drawer and plops himself down at the main banquet table in the research hall, scooping peanut butter and dropping cherries in the mix as he goes. After he pounds through an entire container of peanut butter and a jar and a half of pickled cherries, his appetite is finally satisfied.

"Your father will be home soon, Little One. He doesn't know about you, but I'm sure he'll love you just as much as I do," he assures the tiny being inside him, patting the top of his stomach bulge as he walks into the kitchen with his dishes.

Castiel hastily discards the evidence of his pregnant binge feast and hurries to grab his daily clothes. He manages to shimmy into his undershirt but fails to button his trousers. He's still dressed in Dean's oversized Led Zeppelin shirt and fuzzy bee socks as he uncontrollably breaks down in tears.

In the middle of his room he stands, a valiant angel of the Lord, unable to get his bottoms on. He wonders where he went wrong: the baby, hunting, hiding and keeping his secret, pretending nothing's wrong. Without warning, a misty blue colour fades into the room and surrounds the fallen angel in a comfortable envelope.

Unfortunately, that's when Dean walks in, shotgun cocked and ready. Sam isn't far behind, but Dean's eyes grow as wide as saucers.

"What the—Cas! Are you alright?! What the hell is this stuff, Kool Aid mix?" He screeches in a worried tone, swatting at the air.

Castiel wipes his tears and stands up, only to be met with his boyfriend's piercing gaze once the cloud subsides. After unlocking his eyes from Cas', Dean gives him a quick look down for injuries. Instead, he finds his t-shirt now tear soaked, unbuttoned trousers which are falling off the angel, and hideous novelty socks. Of course, his lover is still blubbering, so he overlooks his attire and embraces him tightly.

"Baby...what's wrong?" Dean murmurs into Cas' shoulder.

Cas shudders and cries in defeat. "I-I can't b-button my p-pants..."

The taller man has to do a double take. His boyfriend, the usually calm and collected Castiel, is sobbing uncontrollably over not being able to button his trousers. Normally, Dean would have to hold in a laugh; but now, since this is Cas, he's genuinely concerned.

"Honeybee, we'll just buy you a new pair," He soothingly strokes Cas' hair. To his surprise, the cries intensify.

Castiel locks his bloodshot eyes with Dean's flawless emerald ones. "These are my favourite pants. Why did this have to happen now?!"

Dean, though still confused, ushers the angel to the bed and quickly locks the door. Sam can't see this—he doesn't even know they're dating, let alone this close. Upon sitting down next to the blubbering mess beside him, he sweeps the hair from his face and kisses his nose.

"Cas, talk to me. Why did what have to happen now? Is something wrong?" Dean's worried whispers echo in the eerily quiet room.

Cas shakes his head, but then nods. "I-I don't know. Everything was fine, and now nothing's okay. I can't even tell you because you'll think I'm a freak."

The green eyed boy cups his lover's face with his callused hands. "You don't have to be afraid to tell me. Hell, I love you. You're the one, and I'd never, ever think you were a freak."

Cas avoids Dean's gaze, but his thoughts are interrupted by his boyfriend's question.

"Does this have anything to do with the weird floaty foggy stuff I walked in on?" He asks, an eyebrow raised.

He sniffles, but still nods. "They're reaching out to me, and I guess the only way it can is through coloured smoke. I researched it, and...well, the only two people that can see it are..."

"C'mon, Cas, it's alright," Dean coaxes.

Cas inhales deeply and takes his hand. "The only two people who can see the colours sent by the nephilim are it's parents."

Dean isn't shocked, nor is he angry. Hell, he's just confused. What's a nephilim, and why are it's parents concerned with whatever it's doing? Then, it hit him: the loud outbursts, the meltdowns, the constant snacking after millennia of fasting. He's the parent, and so is Cas. He and Cas are parents, fathers.

"Wait. You're saying that you're...and that we created a...what?"

"Yes, I am with child," he looks down in shame.

"B-but...how? We're dudes, well, you're an angel, but still." Dean thinks out loud, absentmindedly playing with his collar.

Cas wipes a tear from his eye. "It just h-happened...I-I'm sorry, I know you don't want kids—"

"No...Cas, I want kids more than anything. Don't worry about me. Are you and the..."

"Nephilim."

"Right, the nephilim alright? Can I just say baby? Nephilim sounds weird. Are you and our baby okay?" He rambles excitedly.

Cas' eyes light up for the first time at the sound of his boyfriend calling the baby theirs, and he nods with a smile. "They're growing, developing their own grace, wings, and soul, just as they should. Y-you're okay with this?"

"Of course I am, Honeybee. I mean, the poor thing is half me, and I apologise in advance, Little One, and they're also half you. I can't wait to buy little combat boots and flannels...oh man, a toddler rock salt gun!"

"Let's save that for their teen years," Castiel giggles.

"Fine. I'm so excited! Whoa, will they be able to fly?!" Dean paces and pulls Cas onto the bed with him.

Cas nods with a stupid happy grin on his face. "Our child will do everything a seraph can do and more. They'll be the perfect mix of the two of us, Dean."

The taller boy's eyes flash a joyful green, and he clasps his hand in Cas'. He allows his eyes to shift down to his baby bump, which he has never noticed before. It's...incredible. To have a child, even though they're not there yet.

With his free hand, he rubs his thumb over Cas' belly button and lowers his head to kiss the bump. How could Castiel ever think he would call him a freak?!

After all, the little miracle is simply two souls mixing into one.


	2. God Damnit

The morning following Castiel's breaking the news of the newest Winchester to Dean brings utter chaos. Cas wakes with a gasp at a clattering noise down in the library, and is pulled from his euphoria induced dream state. Without warning, pale crimson floods into the room, and Dean wakes seeing red...literally.

He makes an inarticulate grunting noise and slaps his hand around until he feels Cas' warm body against his. He made a guess as to where his abdomen is and gently pats the space, shushing as he buries his face into the pillow.

He has adapted subconsciously to Cas' being with child very quickly, as this is in a drowsy moment that he snakes his arms around Cas and holds him close.

"Love you guys," he mumbles, rubbing his nose against his boyfriend's (or what used to be his) Led Zeppelin shirt and snuggling his head into the crook of his neck.

Suddenly Castiel feels a burning sensation within his gut, and he whispers into the cool bunker air. "Dean."

As if Dean is a watch dog, he sits upright and shoves Cas behind him as he gets into his defensive position. He laughs and pats Dean's shoulder, which allows his muscles to loosen. He greets Cas with a morning kiss, to which he responds by hurdling over heaps of clothing to get to the bathroom.

He empties the contents of his usually-empty stomach into the toilet bowl and stands shakily afterward, reaching to flush and to grab a washcloth to dab at his mouth. When he turns around, he's met with Dean, who takes him into a strong yet soft embrace and rubs circles into his back.

"I didn't think my morning breath was _that_ bad," he chuckles into Cas' silky smooth hair. It smells of chocolates, which makes him wonder what his angel gets up to in the bunker by himself.

"It's nothing new. It's the lack of strength in my grace making me nauseous," Cas replies with a shrug, still slightly heaving.

Dean lets go of Cas and points down at his midsection with a mock stern face. "Kid, I love you, but settle down. That's an order."

In an instant, Cas' nausea faded and his senses return to normal. "Huh. I guess they listen to you and not me."

"What can I say, guys and girls can't resist this!" He chants as he walks into the bedroom to put on a shirt, earning a slight grin from Cas who snaps his fingers and is changed into his daily clothes.

"Wh—I thought your pants didn't fit? And that your angel mojo was so low you couldn't fly?" Dean inquires with a raised eyebrow.

"Gabriel bought me a new pair. I prayed to him last night after you went to sleep. And, my grace is low, but heaven's obstetrician instructed me to continue using my powers as usual, except for flying." He mutters after grabbing a chocolate bar from a crevice under Dean's mattress.

"Wait, Gabe knows?! And so does heaven?!" Dean shrieks instinctively, fearing for his lover's and his son or daughter's safety.

Cas nods, then shakes his head. "Gabriel told me I was with child two weeks ago. And, Alachiel is fallen; he works from a discreet place in Seattle. We're fine, don't worry."

"Oh," Dean sighs in relief and places his hand over Cas' bump, "that's good. So, when will we get to meet this little trouble maker?"

"In about...I think Alachiel said two or three months," he states calmly, whereas Dean goes apeshit per usual.

His face goes pale and he clasps his hands over his cheeks. "Cas, two or three months?! How have you been pregnant for that long?! How're we gonna get everything in time? Holy shit, I gotta prepare. We gotta go to...shit what's that baby store...Babies 'R Us? Yeah, that. I'm building the crib today, a-and you—try not to tell Sammy. Holy crap. I'm nesting, Cas. I'm nesting."

"Dean, calm down!" Cas exclaims, snaking an arm around his stomach. Suddenly, the room fills with a hue of yellow. He puts a hand on Dean's shoulder and feels him relax. "I've only been with child for a month. The angelic gestation period is half of that of a human. We will be fine. And, why don't you want to tell Sam?"

"B-because, he doesn't even know I like dudes, let alone an angel of the freakin' lord. Plus, how would he react if I told him 'hey, Cas and I are dating and we have a baby on the way, do you want some pie?' Probably badly. I just wanna keep you two safe, honeybee." He struggles to keep his strong and stoic composure, and looses it when Cas wraps him in a hug. His tears matte Cas' frizzy locks, and he sighs. "Please don't tell him yet, okay?"

"I promise I will not tell Sam anything until you're ready. But, please make it before I actually have the baby. That would be awkward," Cas wipes his boyfriend's tears from his cheeks with the pad of his thumb. "Now, do you want some bacon?"

"Hell yes," he smiles weakly before leaning in to kiss Cas' lips.

.,.

As soon as they walk into the bunker's main room, they are met with what woke Cas up originally. A vase and a lamp lay shattered on the floor, and Gabriel stands sheepishly in the center of the chaos. Only Cas can see this, but his slightly glistening golden wings stretch above the wreckage, indicating that his massive wingspan is the culprit.

"Brother, control your wings," he laughs as he walks towards him.

"I tried, and thank Dad Giganto over there is a heavy sleeper," he nudges Sam, who lays comatose on the couch snoring slightly. The moose takes up an entire sofa, and still his feet rest on the end table. "Now, c'mere and gimme a hug, little bro!"

Cas doesn't have time to react before he is being wrapped in a hug and lifted off the floor by his elder brother. He pats his wing, the only way to get Gabriel to focus, and exhales when he put him down.

Gabe looks up and his hazel eyes meet green emerald ones as he locks eyes with Dean. His eyes flash a piercing turquoise for a split second and he smiles. "Hiya, Dean-o!"

"Nice to see you," he fakes a smile and places his hand on Cas' shoulder. He loves Gabriel like a brother, but his quirks are sometimes unbearable.

"So, Cassy, how's, um, the cactus?" He coughs coyly and Cas sniggers at the code name they used for Baby Winchester in the past few weeks. 'Cactus' seemed ridiculous at first, but he is infatuated with Creation still, so it doesn't matter.

"Gabriel," he smiles, placing his hand over Dean's, which rests on his shoulder, "Dean knows."

"Oh!" Gabe chuckles. "And he's not in Argentina, so that's good! How'd you take the baby daddy news, bow legs?"

"I was surprised to say the least, but I'm really freakin' happy. I mean, I get to have a family," he grins like an absolute idiot.

"Cool beans, bro," the archangel pats his shoulder. "So, how's my little celestial niece or nephew?"

"Getting stronger by the day," Cas motions downward at his slightly bulging abdomen. "They seem to listen to Dean more than me."

"Well, then Dean's gonna spoil this kid into yesterday, huh?" He kneels down, placing a hand over his brother's midsection.

Gabriel's hand tingles with the typical amount of grace you'd expect from a nephilim, but he is soon met with a surge of power so great, it nearly forces him backward and hurdling into Samsquatch. He shakes his head and sees the soul of the child within Castiel, which allows him to come to a conclusion.

"Figures." He stands up with a bounce and plucks the lollipop from between his lips. "Only you two chuckleheads could make a baby with that much power. Never seen anything like it."

Dean stares in awe at Castiel and can only manage one word.

"Awesome."


	3. Little Winchester

Though it is nearly two and a half months later, nothing has really changed since Gabriel became involved. The boys still hunt (Dean rarely leaves the bunker, though), and Cas still loves Dean with his whole heart, as Dean does Cas. Castiel was babbling on about marriage and 'holy matrimony' or whatever a month back, and so Dean said screw it and proposed right then and there outside his beloved Impala, with pie crumbs littering his chipmunk cheeks. Cas, obviously, said yes, and they tried to keep the ring as inconspicuous as possible.

Sam noticed after two weeks of the two being engaged, and Cas nonchalantly lied it off as one of Jimmy's mementoes he found while rummaging through a spare set of pants that he had decided to wear to keep his vessel's memory alive. Sam, though slightly sceptical, believed this story and went on as usual.

He is still completely oblivious to his brother's relationship, engagement, and upcoming fatherhood on the day when Castiel and Dean lay contentedly in his bed, within a cocoon of bedclothes. They are watching Mamma Mia! for the fourth time that day, and Cas still cries when Donna tells Sophie about her disownment by her mother. Though he will not admit it, Dean sheds a few manly tears as well.

They listen to Sam and Gabriel bicker endlessly as the movie plays on, their argument over whether "bazinga" is a valid Scrabble word becoming more interesting than Meryl Streep. They laugh as Gabe runs away from the Moose, carrying the scrabble board as he sprints. Sam screeches at Gabe for being a poor sport as he locks himself in his room, pouting like a small child. Yes, Gabriel had decided to move into room 27, right next door to room 26, which is Sam's quarters.

Dean reaches out to hold Cas' hand, and he moves their linked ones to his stomach, which now looks to be a fully pregnant belly. They feel for kicks, as they usually do, and when they feel one they rate the strength on a scale of one to ten. Usually, they range from a four to a seven, but today, the little Winchester decided that he'd pummel his father's insides like there was no tomorrow.

The duo had decided not to find out the sex of the child, because as Cas said, "Nephilim are genderless and it won't matter anyway." Dean still feels that it matters, but Cas is the one pregnant, so he lets him have that one. Though they only want the baby to be healthy, they both secretly hope for a boy. Dean would have a chance to father their son as his father neglected to do for him and Sam, and Cas would teach him how to activate the Netflix.

"Whoa," Dean mutters at the child's kick against his hand, "kid, calm down. We get it, you're strong."

Cas suddenly feels a very strange tingle creeping up his spine and his eyes flash golden yellow. His back stiffens and he feels like he is outside his vessel, watching as the miracle of life begins to set itself in motion. Damnit, Eve.

"Cas?" Dean asks, sensing that something is wrong just from the way that Cas' muscles tense against his touch. "Everything alright, babe?"

Castiel exhales with a silent grunt and forces a smile. "Yes. Yeah, everything's fine."

Dean shuts off the television and faces his angel, a concerned look dwelling behind his apple green eyes. "Honeybee, I can tell when something's wrong. If you're in pain, just tell me, and I'll—"

"No, Dean, I'm not in pain. At least not yet." Cas whispers, a scared whimper escaping his thin lips as he massages his swollen stomach.

The hunter catches on, and his eyes widen with anxiety. "Holy shit. It's time?! Now?! Oh, god, should I get Gabriel?"

Castiel shakes his head and hunches over, a strained gasp accompanying his pain. "No. I don't want anyone in here except you. Not Gabe, not Sam, nobody."

"Um...okay, Cas, I get it, but I am not a baby doctor," Dean stutters through shock, terror, and anticipation.

"Then go get your degree instead of stalling and help me out here!" Cas sarcastically replies (possibly for the first time in his incredibly long life) as he yelps in pain. Just then, a rainbow wave of colours floods into the room like Noah's flood, the haze being transparent enough to see through without difficulties.

Dean then realises that, while human labour takes upwards of four hours, angelic labour could be as quick as one. If Cas was already experiencing minor pains before, then...this kid can pop out at any given minute.

He rushes to lock the door and grab necessary supplies: towels, scissors, a heating pad, water, and baby blankets. Dean then rushes back to Cas and helps him ease his pants off despite the growing pain in his abdomen. He remembers that health class tape from the ninth grade and shudders, as labour can get messy, and quick.

"Goddamnit, Dean! This is your fault!" Cas grips the sheets of their shared bed and tries to suppress the agony. Dean spreads Cas' legs ever so slightly and notices that what was there before has been replaced with a modified biological structure more suitable for birth (A/N: we ain't getting into that here, lads). He cocks his head as he begins holding Cas' hand tightly and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Okay, um...o-on the next pain, just—just push, alright? I've got you," he instructs, almost like he knows what he is doing. He doesn't and is just as scared as he had been on his very first hunt with John.

Cas nods tearfully, feels the next contraction approach, and on the onset of pain, begins pushing. This goes on several times, with Cas taking a rest every so often to hydrate and relax until the agony intensifies even more. Castiel screams out in pain, and neither of the men notice Gabriel and Sam pounding at the door concernedly. Dean's original hypothesis is confirmed when he sees the baby crowning after only an hour of labour, and he gasps.

"Cas, baby, I can see the head. You're doing so great, honeybee. Just a few more pushes." He coaches in a whisper, feeling Cas tense up again.

He groans with an especially agonising push, and with that, the pain stops completely. Cas catches his breath as Dean cuts the umbilical cord and deals with the placenta, expecting cries from the fragile infant in his arms. It doesn't occur to him to check the sex, as he is far too preoccupied cleaning Cas and the child up while swaddling the littlest Winchester in blankets.

Cas uses his grace to heal himself and shakily moves over to the edge of the bed. When he does so, he gasps and tears fill his eyes.

The infant has the most gorgeous blue eyes and sandy blonde hair, which lightly covers a portion of their head. Their now-reddened porcelain white skin is dotted with freckles, and their eyes bat open with zeal to take in Creation. They don't cry, as nephilim rarely do, and stays silent as their fathers take in the sight of a new life, created by them and for them.

Dean moves carefully onto the bed next to Cas and they both stare awestruck at the tiny child swaddled in Dean's arms. Now, both men are crying profusely, and when Dean checks the sex of their child, he just begins sobbing even more.

"Dean, what is it?" Cas smiles with a sniffle as Baby Winchester wraps their tiny pink hand around his finger.

Dean turns to Cas and looks him in the eyes with all the love in the world. "Cas...he's a boy. We—we have a son."

Cas gently lifts their son from his other father's arms and kisses his temple, earning a coo from the baby. Dean wraps his arms around both his angel and his son and holds them tight.

The taller man speaks after nearly a minute of silence spent taking in the sight of their baby. "He needs a name."

Castiel nods with an exuberant sniffle and cradles the infant close to his bare chest. "His name is Jack. Jack Robert Winchester."

Dean's eyes grow wide and fill with tears again. The idea of his fiancé choosing the only father he ever had as a namesake for their child is enough to make him implode out of sheer happiness, and they both had discussed how much they love the name Jack, Cas because of its biblical origins and Dean because it 'sounds like a Winchester name.'

"Cas," he wraps his arms around where Castiel's baby bump was formerly located and smiles, "I'm so proud of you. We have a family, angel."

"We have a family...human," Cas returns his words with a tear of joy cascading down his reddened cheek.

Then, he notices something about the baby. He places Jack down on the blanket and wraps him in a cloth diaper before holding him up, his knees growing weak because of what he is seeing.

As soon as Jack is held up, his wings crease out from behind his back, stretching into a magnificent span of vibrant blues and violets and even some hues of magenta. The silver shimmer coating the feathers accompanying the way Jack's icy blue eyes pulse not blueish white but wolfish sleek grey can only mean one thing.

"Dean," Cas exclaims breathlessly, "Dean, Jack's not a usual nephilim."

"What?" Dean asks, suddenly going into parent mode and trying to see what his angel can. He obviously fails at doing so, and that makes him worried. "Cas, what's wrong with him? Is he okay?"

"He...he's better than okay. I-I didn't even know this was possible." He beams openly and envelopes Jack in his blankets. "Dean, Jack...he's an archangel."

"A-an archangel? What...how? I thought only God could create archangels," Dean gasps as Cas passes their son into his arms. The baby smiles a toothless grin and his reddened eyes fill to the brim with more tears. "H-he did this?"

Cas nods with a sniffle. "I-I guess he knew that our partnership is special, and so he gave us a gift nobody else has. A baby archangel."

"Oh god," Dean's eyes widen again, "please tell me he won't turn out like his uncles."

"What, Gabriel, Michael, Raphael, and Lucifer? They all have primary coloured eyes and grace. Jack...he's something special. His eyes are grey. Pure." Cas rambles. "Our son will change the world, Dean."

Dean chuckles and rubs his calloused thumb over Jack's smooth chest. "Not 'til you're eighteen, okay buddy?"

Just after, Gabe and Sam finally find the spare key hidden inside the knob and unlock the door, the wooden slab swinging open aggressively as the two men enter. Sam has a shotgun cocked and ready, and Gabriel holds his blade in front of him.

The vertically challenged archangel is the first to notice that Dean and his brother aren't alone in the room. He inches closer to them, dropping his blade onto the floor, and kneels down to see his new family member.

Sam still remains confused and alert at the door, until he hears Gabriel sniffle. He slowly approaches the huddle and sees Gabe hugging both Cas and Dean. He lowers his gun and looks at them perplexed.

"Gabe," Dean whispers, kissing the baby's head. "Meet your nephew. His name's Jack."

"Hiya, sport," he makes a funny face at the child before turning him to the side to see his wingspan, causing Cas to hold his baby in a very awkward position in order to avoid getting hit by silver feathers. Gabe falls back, hit with the tip of the left wing, and his eyes widen. "Holy half-brother almighty, that kid's wings are massive. How'd a Nephilim get a wingspan that large?"

"He didn't. He's an archangel, brother," Cas adds, which makes Gabriel scoot back a bit and laugh.

"Wait, I'm sorry, I thought you just said—"

"Archangel? Yes, we did." Dean affirms. "The fourth–well, technically fifth–one. Awe, man! We should'a given him a cooler name, Cas. Gabriel, Michael, Raphael, Lucifer, and little Jack. Man, our son's gonna get shit up in heaven."

"And I thought I had postpartum panic," Cas kisses Dean on the cheek, causing him to laugh.

"Um..." Sam manages through his perplexity. "What's going on here, Dean?"

Dean looks at Cas, who nods, and motions for Gabe to move a bit to reveal the tiny child in Cas' arms. "Sammy, meet Jack Robert Winchester: your nephew."

Sam laughs instinctively and looks at Dean mockingly. "Oh, nice one, Dean. You got me. Well played. Alright, how'd you get the kid and where should I return him?"

Cas cocked his head in confusion and narrowed his eyes at the moose. "Through labour pains on my part. How else would a child be conceived and born? His room is next door, but Dean is hell-bent on using the Winchester method of constant human contact to humanise him."

Dean kisses Cas' perspiration-coated forehead and Sam shakes his head, doing a double take. "Oh shit, you're not joking, are you?"

"Nope. Sam, Cas is not just my best friend. He's my fiancé as of a month ago, and we've been together for almost a year and a half now. And this...this is our son, Jack." Dean explains though not taking his eyes off the most beautiful sight in the world: the love of his life holding their baby.

"A-a Nephilim?" Sam gulps almost inarticulately. His mouth is inexplicably dry after the news.

"No," Castiel begins, "an archangel."

Sam chokes on his own saliva and has to step out, and once he wraps his head around the whole "my brother's gay and marrying an angel of the lord who, in fact, just birthed their son, an archangel" thing, picks up his phone with shaky hands and presses "favourites."

The line rings and rings until he hears a familiar voice on the other end. He inhales and begins talking.

"Hey, Bobby. I owe you twenty." He mutters happily, staring over his shoulder as Dean hums "Smoke on the Water" to Jack while Cas laughs, and Gabe dejectedly turns away after Castiel rejects his offer to give the child a sweet. "Also, I think you should come by the bunker. Your grandson and future son in law are waiting to meet you."

The family might be odd, and there're definitely countless bumps in the road ahead, but one thing's for sure; little Jack will capture his fathers' and uncles' personalities and characters and display the perfect superimposition: a rainbow full of colours.


End file.
